


blunts and blowies

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [74]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hook-Up, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Threesome - M/M/M, lazy smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 08:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8659315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: It is so far from the awkward date night Dean was expecting.





	

Dean is the kind of guy that goes out on the weekends regularly. He’s young, he can appreciate a good hook up. There’s nothing wrong with having a few drinks and not making it past the Impala in the parking lot before you find yourself pants-less with a stranger who’s name you won’t remember in the morning.

Even shit faced, Dean remembers condoms.

So he’s not new to this exactly. But Dean is of a more classical bent. Rock music out of a jukebox, a pretty apple shaped ass bent over a pool table, shots of whiskey. That’s more to his taste.

Maybe Dean is getting a little old, but he’s seriously starting to question the taste of ‘these kids’.

The club is so dark the main source of light is the glow sticks hanging around everyone’s necks and their wrists, being twirled around with dance moves that look more like having seizures. The music - if you can call it that - is so loud it shakes his bones and Dean’s starting to get a tension headache from all of it.

But then there’s Cas. Quiet, stick up his ass, perma-accountant Cas. With black eyeliner on and Dean didn’t even notice the hole for the guy’s lip piercing under his usual workday stubble. In tight skinny jeans and a ribbed tank top, Dean is a-ok with following him into this neon-bass -hump-hell-hole of sweaty bodies.

They’ve maybe fucked a few times.

They’re not in a relationship.

But hanging out on the weekends is ok?

Dean generally makes it a point to avoid messy inter-office sexcapades, but come on, that guy’s ass is gold whether it’s in skinny jeans, polyester slacks, or bent over the copy machine.

It’s hard to keep sight of him in the sea of bodies.

Dean resigns himself to the bar where he can get drunk as shit and at least appreciate the completely lewd writhing of the people on the dance floor. Someone tries to make conversation with him, but he can’t hear jack. Sticking out in the crowd with his plaid and jeans, Dean feels a very foreign sense of self-consciousness here.

“Are you lost?”

Someone manages to talk above the crowd.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that this guy is literally plastered to Dean’s side and Dean can feel the brush of a beard against his ear.

Tipping to the side, there’s a wide smile and glassy eyes staring at him, lit up all funny colors and angles from glow sticks and the churning erratic path of overhead neon lights.

Dean blinks a few times.

“I think you need another drink.”

All Dean really has to say to that is, “Sure.”

Something purple is set down in a shot glass before him as the guy pays for two of them. Dean tips it back before he can question it. It’s sticky and so sweet he feels like he just blew a clown. There’s a residue like cotton candy. Kinda gross. But then someone’s lips are pressed against him and the beard-glow-stick-no-personal-space guy has a hand on Dean’s thigh.

His mouth is open more in shock than anything, kissing back on automatic because it’s warm and pleasant. Dean’s a little disoriented, out of his element.

Jerking back an inch, Dean blinks in shock. The other guy is kind of cute, eyes wide and dark.

Familiar blue eyes blink over his shoulder and there’s Cas, leaning onto this poor son-of-a-bitch and Dean doesn’t really know what’s going to happen next, only, Cas’ tanned arm wraps around the tight cotton of this guy’s tee and Dean watches as Cas’ teeth tug at his ear lobe, and there’s still a hot hand on Dean’s thigh and goddam.

“See, I told you you’d have fun here, Dean.”

Dean can barely hear Cas’ voice over the thumping repetition of the music, but beard-guy doesn’t seem at all surprised to be groped from behind by someone else while trying to pick up Dean.

Mentally shaking himself off, Dean leans forward and he smirks his best ‘your pants are gonna be on the ground in ten minutes’ smirk, sliding a hand around the beard guy’s waist and making sure the back of his hand rubs against the bulge in Cas’ tight jeans.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Aaron.”

“M’Dean, this is Cas.”

Two hands brace on Dean’s shoulders as Aaron leans towards him, hips pushing back against Cas. There are other patrons, crowding along the bar, jostling and watching, some with dirty side eyes because they’re taking up space where people wanna order drinks, some with completely unabashed interest.

“Wanna take this somewhere else?”

-

Cas’ apartment is a ten minute walk from the club. Dean had never been there before, except for his brief appearance to pick Cas up for what he thought was going to be some dorky Friday night date like going to a movie or the fucking park of something.

He really didn’t expect Cas to drag him to some kind of rave culture club or whatever that was.

Somewhere past the door of the club - blessed cool city air and what is now the sweet sweet music of sirens and traffic - somewhere in the drunken stumble of the three of them heading somewhere else, Aaron’s pulled out a joint and Dean’s never seen this particular shine to Cas’ eyes.

The three of them are back there now, at Cas’ apartment. Aaron. Young, drunk, hard and eager. They didn’t even make it to Cas’ bedroom. The pillows were pulled off the futon in the living room, coffee table pushed to the side, yellow abstract shag rug soft and plush under Dean’s bare ass as Aaron goes down on him. Beard tickling the inside of his thighs and the guy’s eyes are seriously huge, Cas tugs Aaron’s pants off and gets him completely naked expect for the glow light bangles still around his neck and wrists.

To be fair, Cas is wearing the neon glow jewelry too.

Dean really doesn’t care when Cas kneels next to his head, cradles his jaw and presses a soft kiss to his forehead, slides a thumb past his lips to tip his mouth open and fucks in there like he owns it.

It is so far from the awkward date night Dean was expecting.

Well, honestly, it’s a little awkward when a fluffy orange cat decides to sit on the futon and watch, just when Dean’s pressing in balls deep, Cas on his hands and knees, Aaron taking up the other side. Dean is so tempted to reach forward for a high five - he’s never done that in real life.

It’s hotter than he expected, watching another guy fucking his friend. Aaron is really fucking hairy, from his neck to his dick, small and compact, and Dean is mesmerized by the movement of his hips as he fucks Cas’ mouth.

They don’t really swap much but names and body fluids, Dean somehow getting the place of honor on his back while Cas and Aaron jerk off onto his chest, wet and warm and shuddering, four hands stroking over his arms and his belly, down his thighs, cock spending easy with the squeeze of rough hands, the kiss of two mouths wrapping around him.

-

Dean used to think he wasn’t a vanilla guy. He has his own kinks, panties and spanking taking top spots. But Cas just brings something out in him.

And if they keep Aaron’s number, get together for blunts and blowies every few weekends, well hey who said a relationship has to be just two people?


End file.
